Tastes Like
by Thursdays
Summary: First kisses, the most recent of a string of kisses, possibly even a final kiss. A collection of oneshots, pairings different with each vignette.
1. Raspberry Lip Gloss

**Author's Note: **Every break I take from Colour Me Surprised produces a new oneshot, so I figure, hey, why not make a collection of these oneshots? So that's what I'm doing. Enjoy! And please, if you're going to flame me, don't do so because you disagree with this coupling, or any of the later ones for that matter. I'd rather receive criticism based on my writing abilities, instead of which characters I decide to pair up. You're entitled to your opinions and views, as I am my own. By writing these, I'm simply commenting on the most interesting "what if" scenarios.

**Disclaimer:** Zoey 101 and all related characters are not my own.

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Raspberry Lip Gloss **

She's scooting closer to me; I edge away slowly, deliberately. I can't lead her on any longer, it's getting too dangerous. I'm perilously close to losing my sanity; she's perilously close to learning the truth.

The temperature is rising and it's not just me. My eye is on the thermometer hanging outside the science classroom window, its red liquid taunting me. 37 degrees, it reads. Right now, I'd be happy if it were minus 50. Minus 50 would give an excuse for more clothes, more layers between her ever approaching body and my own.

Her bony hand comes to rest on my thigh; I almost jump a mile. She notices this and smiles coyly at me, flipping a purple strand of hair behind her ear. Oh no, she's taking it as anxious anticipation; my own nervous invitation to her. Unfortunately, she's wrong. She's been wrong (so very wrong) this past week, more wrong than I've ever seen one person be.

It started (always starts) with assumptions; assuming that a prolonged silence means yes and a sweaty palm means more. Meaningful looks have meant no and head scratching has become an invitation to come closer. She believes so intently in these interpretations that I myself have come to believe that my body is not in correspondence with my mind, with my heart.

Her knee is touching mine, sending out a static shock so powerful that it makes me consider it twice; was it friction, or was it something more?

Her breath is humid upon my neck, her soft voice making my hairs stand up on end.

"Chase… are you okay?" she whispers smoothly. I shut my eyes firmly, attempting to squeeze every inch of common sense back into my body.

"F-fine," I manage to stutter, my voice raspy and low. My throat has seemingly closed up; I can make no more sound. She slides onto my lap with practiced ease, arms dangling loosely around my neck. I open my eyes timidly to see her own, dark brown and dangerous, staring back at me. A mischievous smile is forming on her lip, lips that are coming closer by the second.

Try as I might, I cannot pull my head away; it's trapped, trapped by the spindly arms holding it firmly in place. Slim fingers push my head ever so gently towards her own. I close my eyes, preparing for the worst.

Her lips, shining in pale pink glory, meet mine, lightly at first. I desperately try to refrain from responding, but to no avail. Her kiss is intoxicating, it's drawing me in. She tastes of raspberry lip gloss, artificial and seductive; I pull my head back, trying to get a word in.

"Lola–" I mumble, lips moving awkwardly against hers, vibrating as my voice breaks the hold.

"Shhh," is all she utters before pulling me deeper, down into the depths I've been so afraid to explore. Her lips are smooth, making me self-conscious about the quality of my own. Unintentionally I relax into her grip, my hands responding to her touch, finding their way across her small back. I trace her all-too prominent spine, an action that is answered with wild hands roaming through my unmanageable hair.

My lips suddenly encounter something new, something different. Her lips have opened, letting forth her tongue. It brushes my lower lip lightly, yet forcibly enough for my mouth to open as well, allowing entry. Her reaction is somewhat ecstatic as she pushes her body roughly onto mine. My mind is screaming, demanding that I let her go but I can't. My body isn't listening to my commands. And by now I know that I'm enjoying this much more than I should be.

I break away from her suddenly, though not by my own doing. She has pulled away on her own accord, smiling dreamily at me as she settles her head into the dip between my head and my shoulder. We stop when she decides; that's how it has always been, and how it will always be. I look around me to see a few people staring at us, at the scene we had just caused. Yet one face stands out more than the rest in my eyes: Zoey.

She's standing by the fountain with Nicole, looking in our direction with disbelief. Finding my gaze she crosses her arms and cocks an eyebrow, telling me that she's not amused. Lola, spotting her friends, smiles sheepishly and twinkles her fingers at them. Not knowing what to do, I follow suit, giving a wave, rather stupidly, in Zoey's direction.

Zoey scoffs, rolls her eyes and stomps off, all in one fluid motion, leaving a bewildered Nicole in her wake. The brunette gives me a menacing glare before rushing off to comfort her best friend.

I can't believe what I've done. In the space of 6 minutes, I have completely and utterly ruined my chances at ever being loved by Zoey. A sigh below my ear jolts me back to reality and I look down at the petite actress in my arm. She gazes up at me adoringly and snuggles closer, making me feel like such a user. I mean, I'm thinking about another girl while I still have one right next to me, the one that stole my first kiss many weeks ago.

And I know deep down that the girl beside me isn't a pawn, so what right do I have to treat her like one? Unfortunately, she's not a queen either; she's my friend, and I can't deceive her any longer. For I know now that in leading her on, I am indeed deceiving her. The girl who had been standing before me moments ago is undeniably my true queen, yet the sad truth is that I doubt I am her king.

You see, my life is like a game of chess, yet the pieces have feelings, voices and body temperatures. Chess is a game of strategy, trickery and cunning, all of which I'm not overly capable.

And it's for this reason that I'm not surprised how complicated I've made my life with one idiotic move: I've always been complete shit at chess.


	2. Sin

**Author's Note:** Here you are. Be warned: if you're a huge fan of Chase/Zoey, you might want to skip this one.

**Disclaimer: **Zoey 101 and all related characters are not my own.

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Sin **

It started with the clock chiming in: 10:00. The stragglers rose and exited the room, desperately hoping they would not be caught by their D.A.s. It's dangerous business, avoiding curfew. And the night was only to get more hazardous.Seemingly alone, I stooped to pack away my books. After fumbling with the zipper for a precious two minutes, I finally stood up, prepared to rush back to my dorm. Unfortunately for me, there was one more obstacle: Zoey.

She was perched on the navy sofa, her face the very picture of exasperation. Leaving her alone would not be very gentleman-like, I decided, so I approached her and took a seat next to her.

"What's the matter?" I asked her stupidly, densely.

She sighed a sigh of fatigue and ran a hand through her hair, pushing her chocolate bangs back.

"My English paper is due tomorrow, and I'm stuck on this one scene," she informed me, biting her lip as she avoided my stare, concentrating on the pages occupying her lap.

"Oh… what's it on?" I asked her, glancing at the clock. I set down my bag, convinced I would be there for a time.

"Romeo and Juliet," she answered simply. "Act one, scene five." She picked up the book and handed it to me so I could read the confusing lines. I followed her finger to the offenders.

'**ROMEO**: Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take. Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged.

**JULIET**: Then have my lips the sin that they have took.

**ROMEO:** Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.'

I read it twice more before looking up at Zoey again.

"What's so difficult about understanding that?" I asked her, quickly realizing that it had come out more insulting than questioning. "I mean, which line are you having the most trouble with?"

"Second one," she mumbled, her head cradled in her hands.

"Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged?" I recited.

"Mhmmm."

"Okay," I said, starting to explain. "So Romeo is explaining that in the act of his kissing her, she has taken away his sins and he is pure again."

"'Kay… then what?" Zoey asked, turning her head in her hands so one eye could watch me.

"Okay, then Juliet is, I guess, thinking out loud or something, because she's saying that they have to kiss again, because if she has just taken his sin away, then it must be her own sin now and she must get rid of it. So by kissing him as he did her, I guess they either figure they're canceling out each other's sins, or Romeo doesn't find it fair that he dumped his sin on Juliet."

I think.

Zoey sat up and leaned back, hands sitting loosely on her denim-clad thighs. She sat there for a moment and I just watched. Something about her was transfixing me at that moment, something I was trying to brush aside.

"So, it would be like if I cheated on Chase or something sinful like that," she started, still looking at the ceiling. "I would have to kiss him in order to rid myself of the sin? And then he would have to kiss me back so it wouldn't burden him?"

I remember sitting and thinking about her analogy, contemplating every word she had said.

"Well," I began. "You wouldn't necessarily have to kiss him, I think. I think it could be anybody, 'cos Romeo hadn't cheated on Juliet really, right? Because they weren't together yet. And to rid both persons of the sin, you'd have to commit the act again. So if it wasn't kissing, then you couldn't kiss to cancel the sin. Does that make any sense at all?"

Her expression brightened considerably as she took up her pen once again, grinning at me broadly. "Thanks Michael, you're a great help!"

"Heh, no problem Zo. Don't stay up too late, a'ight?" I instructed her, teasing.

"Yes Mom," she replied, sticking her tongue out at me.

I picked up my bag and left the couch, walking towards the door. With every step I took, a strange urge inside of me grew larger. I stopped suddenly, analyzing the growing feeling.

"Michael? You okay?" came a worried voice behind me, questioning my abrupt halt.

Lust.

I dropped my bag to the ground and walked back over to Zoey, standing in front of her.

"Zoe, can I ask you something? With all the talking about Romeo and Juliet's little situation, you didn't happen to–"

My question was stopped by the sudden presence of unfamiliar lips on my own. Startled, I instinctively grabbed Zoey's waist for security, finding too late that it was the farthest away from safety that I had ever been.

It couldn't have been real. She's the good girl, the girl who gets straight A's, the girl who is an all around nice person; the girl who is currently dating my best friend.

And then there's me. I'm the kinda guy who jokes around, listens when his friends have a secret to share at two in the morning and has an addiction to potato chips. It couldn't have been real, it shouldn't have been real.

Too bad it was, huh?

She pulled away, looking at me alarmingly with her dark brown eyes.

"I'm sorry, Michael. I was assuming. I had no right to do that. I'm sorry; let's forget it ever happened, okay?" She bit her lip and turned her back to me.

Astonished, I shook my head to rid myself of this feeling and rubbed my forehead. Impulsively (stupidly), I tapped her shoulder and she turned to face me again.

"What?" she asked me, voice quavering, eyes watering.

I cleared my throat nervously. "Technically, your kiss was a sin. But I sinned in kissing you back, so now my sin is your burden as well. So… well that's not very fair, is it?"

She bit her lip again and nodded. I took a small step toward her and wrapped my arm around her. Her familiar scent of coconut drifted up towards me as I craned my neck down towards her face.

Instinct is instinct, and mine was telling me that I was wrong. The situation was wrong; **we** were wrong.

Instinct is instinct, yet mine came far too late.

**× × ×**

I tell myself excruciating lies and am quite aware of this fact, yet I am content. I tell myself that she is mine, or she soon will be. I tell myself that it's okay, that nobody will ever know. I tell myself that she loves me, truly loves me, and that I love her as well.

I tell myself these things, yet I know that her taste alone tells me what to expect, her taste of sin. Beneath those tall tales, I know that I'm not meant to be holding her; she isn't mine to call my own. I know that they **will** know, that is only a matter of time. And I know that she does not love me, and I know that I wish I could say the same.

The extremity of what I have done – what I am doing, has pushed the limit and is continuing to do so. The girl whose hand is enclosed in mine underneath the tabletop is my best friend's girlfriend, and it pains me to know that on her right side, her hand is occupied by his. Though their affection isn't concealed beneath half a foot of concrete.

But my ache is nothing compared to what his would be, and it's for this reason that he can never know, can never find out. Find out about us.

Every once in a while, Zoey has to let go of my hand and raise her own in order to eat a grape or make a gesture and I do the same, at a different time of course. This way, we don't arouse suspicion, and after a few minutes, we are in the clear again.

I can't (we can't) afford a slip-up. We know how much it would cost us; we also know that it is far too late to abandon ship. We're too far below deck, and the key appears to be lost, a fact we know to be false.

What scares me to know is that she is the key and thinks I am oblivious to that fact. Oh, if she knew. It scares me to know that she could unlock the door at any time, leaving me alone in the dark. And it scares me to know that this day is undoubtedly soon.

But for now, I will hold her small hand all the more tightly and kiss her all the more passionately, all the while waiting for the day when she will abandon our dangerous ship and turn her back as it sinks below the waves, my heart strapped aboard.

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**Author's Note:** Wow, how's that for overdramatic? Micheal came out sounding pretty angsty. It wasn't my intention, but whatever; I'll go with it.


	3. Innocence

**Author's Note:** Alright, so this one's more cute than anything else. Once again, a somewhat unexpected pairing. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** Zoey 101 and all related characters are not my own.

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Innocence **

She knows how he feels; she can feel the tension in the air when she approaches, she can see his cheeks flush dangerously crimson in her gaze, she can smell, she can hear, she can taste. Yet she ignores all these warning signals, flattered by his crush and confident that it is simply that; a crush.

He believes differently; he knows differently. He believes that he and Nicole are meant to be, that every smile that graces her lips is intended for him. He believes that age is a minor character in the play of their lives, their lives intertwined.

He scoffs at Zoey's preposterous reasoning; why would he have a crush on Quinn? She puts him through all measures of pain and suffering in the name of _science_. Zoey thinks he puts up with all her experimentation as a result of his infatuation with the brainy girl.

Zoey doesn't know anything, and Dustin is getting to the age where this is his everyday reasoning. So why should he expect her to see the all-too-obvious messages he sends to the object of his affection? He doesn't expect her to notice his intentions at all.

He does not run to his sister for advice anymore, rather she finds him and forces her precautions on him. While he outwardly loathes these chance meetings, his heart tells a different story. A story that is beating 5 times faster than your typical once upon a time. Usually accompanying his sister, Nicole almost always has something to say to him as well, and it's these words that he takes in, that he remembers.

Dustin won't be able to tell you what Zoey said to him about the water fountains yesterday, though he most likely can recite (word for word) what Nicole said about bubblegum last Tuesday morning.

At the (obscenely) mature age of thirteen and a half he does still love his sister, though blood is not thicker than vanilla-scented water at this stage. The approval of his family is not his first and foremost aspiration in life anymore, much to the secret disappointment of his father. No longer does Dustin rely on the protection and safety of his family; he now thrives on the attention of the opposite sex, particularly the elder.

Every glance thrown his way by a long-lashed, tan-skinned girl is now met with a smile or wink, rather than an expression of confusion and a detailed search of his surroundings in order to find the recipient of this physical appreciation.

Dustin is now a teenage male, with the eyes and mind of a teenage male. Many thoughts swirl in his head as he strides through one of the many courtyards, thoughts that he has never experienced before. And although he has come to realize how many lovelies there truly are at PCA, his pulse still quickens at the casual mention of her name in a conversation between Logan and Chase. Walking by their table with the intention of finding said girl, he can feel his palms growing damp, his steps quickening.

Nevermind the mention of her name; he can see her now, sitting alone and reading a textbook while casually sipping on a smoothie. He can tell by the colour that it is strawberry peach and he can tell, as the result of many observations, that it is her favourite. He takes a deep breath and closes the gap between them.

Oblivious to his approach, Nicole continues to scan her textbook, flipping to page two fifty-six while sipping her frozen drink. It isn't until Dustin clears his throat that his presence is noted. She looks up in surprise, tawny eyes wide and eyebrows raised. She smiles delightedly, quickly swallowing her mouthful.

"Oh, hey Dustin. What's up?" she asks, her voice caressing his ears with a tenderness she'll never understand.

"Hi, Nicole," he greets, not entirely used to the low voice coming out of his mouth. "C-can I show you something?"

"Yeah, sure," she replies, standing up, expecting him to point out how beautiful the ocean looks in the late afternoon sun, or possibly a person. Maybe a cute boy?

He clears his throat again and she tilts her head down at him, though there really is no need. He is scarcely four inches shorter than her now, a fact that continues to surprise her. She sees his fingers fidget, his foot tap; she sees him rub his arm before meeting her gaze. She feels somewhat uncomfortable; he feels so nervous he could throw up.

Blushing furiously, he stands on his tiptoes and plants a chaste kiss (lips pursed) on her soft, petal pink lips and darts away. The scent of far too much cologne lingers in the air, mingling with the still-fresh taste of innocence implanted on her mouth. Nicole stands quietly, staring after the retreating figure of the small boy. She slides back (slowly) into her plastic seat in utter silence, somewhat thankful that nobody of importance had played witness to that incident.

Aware that the courtyard is nearly desolate, she allows a smile to play across her lips as she swirls the blue curly straw in circles in her shocking pink smoothie. Thoroughly satisfied with the result of her vigorous mixing, she takes a sip of her drink as she replays this most recent event in her mind.

She can't honestly say that this surprised her; she knows how he feels. She can feel the tension in the air when she approaches, she can see his cheeks flush dangerously crimson in her gaze, she can smell, she can hear, she can taste. She is flattered by his crush and is confident that it is simply that; a crush.

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Author's Note: **Ta-da. Okay, so if you've checked my profile you'll se that I'm away for two weeks, meaning no updates. So you'll have to wait to read more about the kisses between odd couplings, haha. 

_P.S._ Just because I'm away, doesn't mean I wouldn't like a boatload of reviews waiting when I get back... I would do a winky face thing but I think they look funny.


	4. Pause

**INTRMSSN:**

Creativity level is zero. I'm honestly at a huge loss for what pairings to write about now.  
I've scratched the two I was working on, because they were bland and not up to my standards.  
So now, here I am, racking my brain for any possible ideas.

So, if you would like to read more of these one shots, please give me some suggestions for  
pairings you would like to see. Typical, abnormal, minor characters: whatever.  
My preference would be the kind of coupling that nobody has ever really acknowledged or  
thought about, but that's a little hard to come up with.

And no, I'm not just putting this in here to get more reviews.

I'm truly at a loss, haha. It's a little bit sad. When I find the absoloutely brilliant suggestion I'm searching for,  
you will definitely receive acknowledgement for the idea.

So please, suggest away.


End file.
